In Vino Veritas
An invitation to a wedding in France caught my attention. My immediate reaction was dread. France? In the middle of an already overstuffed summer? Impossible.
I am very busy.
Unfortunately, ‘I’m busy’ is one of the world’s lamest excuses for missing your own life.
And one of the core themes of my manifesto is ‘say “yes” and go.’
So it was, “Oui, bien sûr.”
The groom, Thibault Gehin, was one of my best students before becoming one of my favorite colleagues, and later someone crazy enough to follow me into the Kalalau Valley on a backpacking trip. He survived his injuries. More remarkably, he still speaks to me.
Thibault was a standout in the Housley Principled Leadership Program (as a Frenchman and one of two men in a class with thirty women, he truly stood out). Thibault came to work at Kalypso and then moved to Belize to spend three years toiling in the tropics at Muy’Ono.
Everybody loves Thibault!
The wedding was out of a fairy tale, taking place in a massive old chateau on a hilltop above a tiny village that looked like it was set in the opening scene of Beauty and the Beast. The ceremony was beautiful, or at least I assume it was. It was entirely in French, so for all I know they were discussing the price of gas. The priest seemed very sincere. The wedding party looked like a 1990s Benetton ad assembled by the UN. I have never seen so many nationalities, ethnicities, skin tones, and languages gathered in one place.
Thankfully, I was not the only redneck. Très bien!
Of course, I couldn’t travel to France without sampling the wine. The only responsible thing to do was add a week to the trip, rent a convertible, and conduct extensive academic research into French wine. The history in Alsace, the caves in Champagne, the hospitality in Chablis, and the landscape in Burgundy are not to be missed. Not to mention the wine. I think I am now ready for my Level 3 sommelier exam. It was exhausting scholarship.
But the wine wasn’t really the main point. The real reason for adding the miles was people.
Getting to spend the day with my new seven-month-old best friend was a thrill, and taking him swimming in a Bavarian lake after beer and schnitzel was a highlight. I also had the opportunity to spend an evening and day with old friends in Basel who now have three boys under ten. Nine years ago, I held their six-day-old son for a photograph. We tried to recreate that picture without success. He no longer fits in my lap.
I came home to exactly the same packed calendar I had before I left. Nothing collapsed. Nobody died. The emails were all still there.
But I had watched a friend get married in a French château, driven through Burgundy with the top down, swum in a Bavarian lake with a seven-month-old, and laughed with friends I don’t see nearly enough.
So the next time an invitation arrives and your first thought is, ‘I’m too busy.’
Say “YES” and go!
Santé!
